Reconciliation
by afullmargin
Summary: After the events of Series 2, Mike is reminded of a much earlier time in their life when Tim hurt him and forces him to face the music, as it were. Smut ensues.  Note: Slash


**Title:** Reconciliation

**Author:** Amber (anemptymargin)

**Website:** .net

**Fandom:** Spaced

**Pairing(s):** Tim/Mike

**Posted to:** anemptymargin, fregg_love

**Word Count:** 4964

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Summary:** After the events of Series 2, Mike is reminded of a much earlier time in their life when Tim hurt him and forces him to face the music, as it were. Smut ensues.

**Notes:** Entirely inspired by the DVD bios and far too many times watching through the Series in a month's span. My first time writing for Spaced, so I'm quite nervous about it.

**Feedback:** Is always very welcome. :)

The sounds of Sunday buzzed all around Tim as he let himself wake to the chilled afternoon. Daisy seemed to be working; he could hear the clatter of the typewriter in her room pausing at long intervals. Apparently energized by her return from the land of sweaty gay gods among men, Twist and Brian had been renewing their passions a good deal of the morning. Thankfully they'd quieted down with plenty of time for a good early afternoon wank.

Tim pulled his blanket up tight around him, cutting out the chill as he closed his eyes and let the porn reel in his head start rolling. "Mmm... yeah..." He murmured, pressing his palm down his belly past his pants teasing his fingers over his partial erection. "So naughty..." he grinned wide, stroking loosely up the length until it strained against the warm cotton. Somewhere far away he heard the door, but his mind fixed on the flashing images in his mind - a raunchy collection of every porno he'd ever encountered, every sexual encounter he'd ever been part of.

Then just as he hit his stride there was a loud knock on the door, jarring him out of the fantasy. "What?" he whined loudly, hitching a rough breath as he felt wetness against his thumb, having stopped mid-stroke.

"Tim! Wake up... it's half twelve," Daisy's voice called through the door, thankfully pausing a moment before she pushed it open.

Tim scrambled with the blanket, quickly pulling his hand up and thrusting it under his pillow to look like he was doing anything but exactly what he was doing. "Right, right... just... resting, Daisy."

Daisy grinned suddenly, letting out a slight giggle. "I caught you..." She whispered mockingly, giggling a little louder. "I did, didn't I?"

"Daisy!" Tim sighed, rubbing his fingers against the underside of his pillow before pulling out his hand. "What are you talking about?"

"I bet under that big duvet you're pitching a tent, Tim," She giggled, her tongue darting out against her lips a moment. "Not that there's anything wrong with it... just thought you might be a bit more careful about something like that."

"Well this is MY room." Tim sighed heavily, "Is there a reason for this interrogation?"

"Yes, actually." Daisy's grin faded only slightly. "I need you to take out Colin and Marsha's come down... she says Mike hasn't been out of his room in two days and she's getting worried."

Tim groaned, pulling his pillow up over his head. After another drawn out groan he pulled the pillow back and grumbled, "Is she sure he's even there? Maybe he's got something with the TA or something this week."

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?" Daisy raised an eyebrow as Tim pulled away the pillow. "You two practically share a brain."

He groaned again, giving up hope on his fading erection. In all truth, he hadn't actually talked to Mike in a few days... it was nothing new - Mike was prone to taking a couple week walkabout every so often or impromptu camp outs. Of course, the last time they had actually spoken with each other they'd been too busy trying to sort out the flat and Daisy and Sophie that they really hadn't spoken about anything he was actually up to. "Yeah, yeah..." Tim nodded, letting out a sigh before setting aside his pillow. "I'll get him on the walkie."

"Right." Daisy grinned again. "Should I fetch it from the lounge and let you finish up?"

Tim felt himself blush slightly, his eyes squinting almost shut as he gave an annoyed nod. "I'm fine, Daisy. I'll get it."

"Right." She gave a short nod, turning on heel and letting out one last short giggle before heading out.

He sighed again, letting go of the frustration a moment before pushing up out of bed and towards the sofa. Still a bit bleary eyed, he accepted a warm mug that Daisy insisted on pushing into his hand.

"Mornin', Tim." Marsha's voice came from the kitchen table where she was perched with a fag dangling between her fingers. "You hear from Michael yet?"

"Calling," Tim muttered, taking a long drink of the familiar tea before picking up the walkie. "Mike, you up?" He let the button go with a slight static hiss.

There was a long wait and then a loud click followed by Mike's voice; "Yeah Tim, I'm here."

Tim nodded towards the table as Daisy sat down, pressing the button to respond. "Copy that, what's your 20?"

Another long pause before Mike responded with an obvious sigh. "Bed."

"I told you something was up." Marsha stubbed out the remnants of her cigarette. "This isn't like him."

"I think I know what is and isn't like him," Tim shot back, slightly frustrated by the dour tone in Mike's voice. "He gets like this sometimes. I'll take care of it." He raised his eyebrow as through waiting for one the women to contradict him, when they didn't he pressed the button and responded, "Bored here, wanna come down for a bit?"

They waited, the quiet almost suffocating. There was no response.

"Something's on with him, Tim." Daisy licked her lower lip tentatively.

"Shut it." Tim sighed, pushing up off the sofa. "I'll take Colin out and if he still hasn't said anything I'll go up, okay?"

When he returned, the walkie had been moved to the center of the table and Mike had indeed replied. Pink Floyd poured rather loudly from the tinny speaker.

"Told you something was going on." Marsha poured out a glass of wine, lifting her eyebrow. "He didn't say nothing, just turned this business on. I don't even know what it means, played this song twice now."

"Christ." Tim sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Anything but this song." He knew all too well what it meant. He hadn't been able to listen to Money since summer of 1991, and yet there it was.

"What does it mean, Tim?" Daisy furrowed her brow, picking up the walkie and staring at it as though it would spill all the secrets of the Universe. "What does it all mean?"

"It means that he's angry." Tim reached for Marsha's pack of fags, swiping one and accepting a much needed light.

"Why would he be angry?" Marsha pulled away the lighter with a puzzled look.

"Why Money?" Daisy added. "Not much of an angry song, is it?"

"It has significance, Daisy," Tim sighed, taking a deep drag as the song repeated again. "I can't believe he's still holding on to this SHIT." He raised his voice, hoping it would carry upwards.

"I don't know, I kind of like it." Marsha grinned, rocking from side to side - her wine sloshing a few drops up over the edge of the glass. "Brings me back..."

"Right." Tim sighed, stubbing out the fag halfway and turning back towards the door. "I'm going up then."

"Want us to come with you?" Daisy offered quietly. "Back you up?"

"This is something I've got to do myself." He nodded, heading out the door and quickly up the stairs. The music was even louder in Marsha's flat, almost forcing him back out.

Tim waited a long moment in front of the door, steeling his nerves for the confrontation. It had been a very long time since he'd dealt with Mike in one of... those... moods. He was argumentative, needy, somewhat emotional, and worst of all, usually right. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his fist and pounded loudly on the door. "Mike, it's me. Can I come in?" The music droned on and as Tim was about to pound the door even harder the volume halved. "Come on Mike..."

"Timmy?" Mike's voice sounded small behind the door, under the drone of the music.

"Yeah, let me in." Tim tried the knob, unsurprised to find the door locked tight. "The door's locked."

He heard the bed give a low creak as Mike got up, then the unlatching of several locks. Mike opened the door just enough catch half of one lens and a wisp of mustache. "What do you want?"

Tim flashed a smile, wedging his foot in the gap in an attempt to widen the opening a bit. "Marsha and Daisy are worried about you..."

Mike nodded, inhaling sharply. "I see." He moved to close the door, only wedging it harder against Tim's foot. "Don't make me hurt you, Tim."

"I'm worried too." He winced, biting back the pain as the door pushed hard against the side of his foot. "Come on, let me in."

He sighed and pushed back against the door a moment before caving in and walking away. "Fine," he mumbled, sitting heavily on the side of his bed where he'd stripped down a Ruger. Without looking back up he began to reassemble the weapon.

Tim let himself in, closing the door behind them. Determined to stop the noise, he turned off the boom box and retrieved the cassette. "I can't believe you have a whole cassette of nothing but that fucking song." He briefly considered trying to snap it in half, but thought the better of it and just chucked it towards the closet.

"Zeppelin on the other side." Mike drew back the slide, finessing it into place.

"Stairway?"

"No, it's a mix."

"Oh." Tim nodded, digging his hands into his pockets while he waited for Mike to say something. He finished the assembly and set the safety, setting it aside before looking back up to Tim. After a drawn out pause, Tim looked down at his feet; "Sorry, Mike."

"Why?" Mike raised an eyebrow, leaning back against his pillows.

Tim shrugged. "Well, uh... you know." He sighed, "Whatever I did."

"Right then." Mike stood up, taking Tim by the shoulders and forcibly turning him towards the door. "Apology not accepted. Get out."

"Hey, hey!" Tim pushed back as Mike forced him towards the door. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry about Sophie! I shouldn't have forgot about your promotion."

"I'm not upset about Sophie," Mike grumbled, pushing Tim hard against the closed door. "It's about you."

Tim grunted when Mike pressed his face harder against the door. "I said I was sorry! I don't know what you want from me."

Mike let out a loud growl, slamming Tim hard against the door once more before letting him down and pulling away. "Just like when we were teenagers." He sighed, his voice dropping back down to normal levels before settling back down on the bed. "You don't care who you hurt as long as you get what you want."

Tim cleared his throat, adjusting his shirt as Mike spoke. "For chrissake, Mike. We're not seventeen anymore."

"You sure haven't changed," Mike grumbled. "Just go, Tim."

Tim was dumbstruck. He'd changed, matured... he was a little punk as a teenager. Spunky, sure... but still a bit of a bastard. "I... I don't follow, Mike." He forced a slight laugh, "We talked about this years ago... it's been reconciled!"

"Has it?" Mike shot back.

He sure thought it had been. "The week after it happened we both agreed that we would never speak of it again." He whispered, his eyes darting to the walkie on Mike's pillow - the button taped down. "Can we not broadcast this, please?"

"They already know you're a bastard, Tim." Mike picked up the walkie and peeled off the tape.

"Okay, so you want to talk about what happened in '91." Tim stepped forward, stopping at the foot of the bed. "Fine, we're both adults... when we were stupid, experimental teenagers we did something that maybe we shouldn't have."

"So you're ashamed of what happened?"

"Well, shouldn't I be? It was stupid kid stuff, Mike." Tim's voice caught a little in his throat as he watched Mike's face for any change - he still looked upset. "I took advantage of you. You know I'd never do anything like that again."

Mike was quiet a long moment, raising his fingers to stroke slowly over the center of his mustache. Finally he quietly responded, "Did you ever think maybe you didn't?"

Tim shook his head and sighed, sinking to the bed on his knees. "Mike, I know what I did. We came to terms with this years ago."

There was another drawn out, awkward silence before Mike let out a soft whimper. "Tim..."

"I know; I'm an arrogant, self-absorbed shit." Tim sighed, kneeling close enough to get eye to eye and flash the smile that he knew could get him out of damn near every tight spot.

Mike's furrowed brow rose slightly, his hardened frown softening. "Yeah." He nodded slowly.

It was working, Tim grinned a little wider - knowing that Mike would forgive him just as he always had every time he did something stupid. "I didn't think about it, you know... it's just like Sophie was something different and new." Mike's frown returned and Tim scrambled for a better excuse; "Not that you're not important or anything... I just know that no matter what you're going to be there because you've just always been there for me. No matter what stupid thing I do." He sighed, licking his lips. He realized quite suddenly it wasn't really an act, despite being almost word for word the same exact thing he'd told Sarah when he first got the Internet. It was the honest truth - Mike had always been there for him.

They had even had a turning point, summer 1991... they both had the chance to walk away but even after doing quite possibly one of the stupidest most impulsive things of his life - Mike had forgiven him but apparently kept the Pink Floyd. "Oh God," Tim sighed, looking away and covering his face as it all hit him. "I'm awful."

"You're not awful." Mike sighed, wrapping his arm around Tim's waist and pulling him until he lay down on the bed.

"I am." Tim forced back the urge to crack as the memory lodged itself in his brain. They had been young, impressionable, experimental horny teenagers. Mike was just so... so innocent, even then he'd known that Mike would go along with whatever he suggested. "I molested you."

"You didn't." Mike turned on his side and patted Tim's opposite shoulder.

"I hurt you." Tim closed his eyes - forcing back the lump in his throat. Even as a teenager he'd always been the boss, it seemed like the thing to do at the time. The girls weren't exactly interested and it was a curiosity.

"That's not what hurt me, Timmy." Mike sighed, rolling back out on his back. "We both knew what we were doing. I could have stopped it." He paused a moment and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes before putting them back on. "I didn't want to stop."

It was certainly news to Tim. He'd spent years repressing the memory after Mike up and disappeared for a week the day after it all went down. When he came back they both just agreed that it was best not to go down that road. In the long run, he was sure it was the right thing to do... they just weren't like that. "What do you mean?"

Mike was quiet as Tim opened his eyes and pushed up on one elbow - turning to get a better look at him. Finally, he answered; "I dunno. Just you always acted like nothing ever happened and sometimes I think that I've not been special to you since then."

He was dumbfounded again - leave it to Mike to say one of the things he'd never expected to hear. "Of course you're special." Tim dug deep for something to say that didn't just end badly. What do you say to something like that? 'Yeah Mike, I've been secretly in love with you since we were kids?' It was different - sure, he loved Mike but not like he loved women. Just like he loved Mike, there was no way to describe it. "I don't know what to say to that, Mike. You're my best friend - I don't know what my life would be like without you."

"And that's it?" Mike asked quietly, no inflection to help Tim one way or another... just a blank statement.

Tim sighed again, "I don't know... what do you want me to say?" He waited for a response, but there was none. "I guess it's kind of like we're married, you know?" He knew he was probably going to regret what he was saying even as he said it; "Except you let me sleep around and we haven't had sex since our honeymoon." He let out a high-pitched nervous laugh.

Mike was quiet another long moment before letting out a dry chuckle, "Sounds like my parents."

The chuckle caught Tim off guard and he laughed a little louder, "Yeah, except your Dad's gay..." He paused, realizing too late exactly how awful he sounded. "Shit, that was bad."

Mike gave a half nod and raised his eyebrows, "Not so much." They were quiet a long moment before Mike rolled back up on his side, planting his hand firmly on Tim's hip. "Tim..."

Tim smiled slightly, a blush rising in his cheeks. "Yeah?"

"Maybe not so bad." He licked his lips, catching the edge of his mustache.

There was a pause as Tim tried to sort out exactly what Mike was saying. "Wha?" He grinned slightly, swallowing hard when he felt Mike's broad palm stroke down the back of his hip, pulling him in closer. "Are you saying you're..."

"Never thought about it." Mike gave a partial shrug and let his fingertips push under the loose waistband of Tim's trousers.

Tim didn't shy away from the touch - it was actually quite comfortable. "Are you coming on to me?" He chuckled softly.

"Dunno." Mike slowly pulled his hand back up above the waistband, clearly enjoying the touch of bare skin.

"It's okay..." Tim smiled a little more easily even though he felt more awkward than before. "Just, you know, I'm not..." He lowered his eyes a moment, feeling an undeniable curiosity if nothing else. "Well, alright then."

Mike smiled softly and shook his head, "We don't have to, just thought it might be a bit of a reconciliation."

"Yeah." Tim nodded slowly, grinning like an idiot. "Um, Daisy and Marsha..."

"Right... noise." Mike pushed quickly up off the bed, digging into the closet where Tim had thrown the cassette. "For old time's sake?"

Tim sighed, sitting up long enough to peel off his t-shirt before falling back hard against the firm mattress. "Are we going to listen to Floyd every time we get off?"

Mike shrugged and flipped it over, sure to turn the volume up after getting the slow music started. "Better?"

"Much." Tim pushed himself higher up on the pillows, flashing a more nervous grin. He had no idea what the hell he was doing, just that it couldn't be too wrong - it was just Mike.

"Right." Mike inhaled sharply, giving a slow nod before pulling his olive drab shirt off, catching his tags. Seeming somewhat nervous himself, he walked up to the edge of the bed, turning his back to Tim before dropping his trousers and sitting down to kick them off fully.

It was so undeniably awkward, Tim couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "This is so weird."

"Yeah." Mike nodded, letting out a chuckle before pushing himself up beside Tim. "Guess so."

Tim swallowed hard, feeling almost shy as he looked over at his friend. It wasn't like he'd never seen it before, but it was no less exciting. "How'd we do this before?" His voice dropped slightly as he turned himself to the side, reaching out to stroke over Mike's chest. That was a new sensation to him, the warm skin and coarse hair that hadn't been nearly as prevalent so many years ago. Definitely not like the women he'd been used to.

Mike chuckled slightly again, pushing himself against Tim's palm. "Erm... we were drunk."

"Right." Tim echoed the chuckle, feeling just a little more comfortable as he let his fingers take in the interesting sensation. He almost wished he were a little bit drunk, even a little puff might make him feel less like a complete incompetent.

Mike cleared his throat and took off his glasses, "We don't havta."

"No, it's good..." Tim nodded and gently stroked over the somewhat familiar flesh - letting his fingers trace up along the edges of Mike's dog tags. He palmed the warm metal for a moment and caught himself smiling as he realized the near absurdity of the situation.

"Right." Mike nodded again, his cheeks taking on just a hint of redness as Tim's fingers traced up the chain - then outward along the subtle curve of his breast.

"Not so strange." Tim leaned in slightly, allowing himself to place a small kiss against Mike's shoulder as he cupped the soft flesh somewhat awkwardly. He stroked upwards with his thumb, feeling just a little proud of himself when his nipple stiffened against the gentle pressure.

Mike reached up and let his fingers brush through Tim's hair, catching in the bed snarls. "Eh... Tim..."

"Mmm?" Tim looked back up with an almost sleepy grin, once more rolling his thumb over the hard nub. "No good?"

He smiled and shook his head, placing his palm against Tim's shoulder and directing him to the bed. "It's awright. Let me."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, letting Mike take over. The awkwardness began to taper off when he felt the gentle touch of his friend's fingers, stroking first down his side and then quickly over his hip. "You don't really take your time, do you..." He grinned, letting out an almost nervous laugh when Mike gave a hard tug at the waist of his trousers.

"Limited time frame, Timmy." Mike licked his lips, swinging over on top of him before crawling backwards to kneel near the foot of the bed. With a somewhat disconcerting grin, he gave a quick stroke over his mustache and lifted Tim's knees, yanking off the intervening clothing.

"Right..." Tim felt his knees tremble slightly as Mike propped them up, cozying up to his thighs quite readily. "Oooh... tickles a bit." He caught himself giggling as he felt the tickle of Mike's mustache against his inner thigh followed by a warm, wet kiss. "Are you gonna..." His question was answered before he could finish it, Mike's eager kiss now planted against his arousal. "Ahh ha..." His voice raised slightly, the gentle tickle overridden by the wet heat of Mike's mouth enveloping him.

It clearly wasn't his first time. Mike steadied himself with one palm flat against Tim's hip while the other stroked slow and easy over his sac. When Tim's fingers stroked hard over his scalp, he was all the more encouraged, taking him in deeper as he rolled his tongue over the shaft.

Tim let out a shuddering moan, grinning wide at the delicious sensation. It wasn't much different, despite the crush of short hair under his palms and occasional tickle of his mustache as Mike parted his lips for a breath.

Mike panted hard, pulling up off Tim's cock with a wet slurp followed by a shallow cough. He pressed a kiss against his trembling thigh with a gentle chuckle.

"Don't stop..." Tim whimpered softly, stroking down over Mike's cheeks.

"Drawer," Mike swallowed hard and tilted his chin towards the end table.

"Hmm?" Tim shook his head slightly, not entirely sure what Mike was asking for. He groped almost blindly for the drawer handle as Mike teased over his hardness, stroking the foreskin gently. "What?"

"I'll get it." Mike leaned forward, bracing himself on top of Tim as he managed to open the drawer and dig out a small bottle.

Tim grinned at the unexpected weight pressing against his body, following his instinct and wrapping his arms tight around the larger man, holding him for a long moment.

"Tim..." Mike whispered against his ear.

He relaxed his arms slightly, letting the other man break away and straddle his hips. "Sorry... that felt good."

"Gets better." Mike grinned wide, popping the cap with his thumb and applying a generous squirt of lube to his palm.

"You're not!" Tim blushed hot, not entirely sure what to think of the suggestion, he'd never really thought it out that far.

Mike licked his lips and rolled the liquid in his palm a moment before reaching back and gently applying the slickness. "You are."

Tim blushed hot, smiling wider as Mike gave another hard stroke over his member. "I am?" He whispered, letting out a soft moan when Mike rocked backwards, the new weight shifting against his pelvis as Mike's strong hand guided him into place. "I am..."

"Yeah." Mike shuddered as Tim's hardness slowly pushed inside him. He leaned inward, bracing himself against the bed on either side of Tim's head. Then in a fluid movement, he rocked forward, drawing in close to his partner's face and letting out a shallow breath.

Tim was lost for a moment, unsure of exactly what to do but knowing that the instinct was to pretty much try his best to make the situation feel even more pleasurable. He forced himself to look Mike in the face again; finding himself even more aroused as Mike closed his eyes and lowered his head then rocked back against Tim's gentle thrusts.

"Breathe, Timmy," Mike whispered, driving himself down even harder.

Tim let out a gentle moan - he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. "Christ..." He whined, forcing back the urge to be much louder - the last thing they needed was to be heard in such a state. His fingers curled tight in the duvet as he felt himself getting close far too quickly. Forcing himself back from the edge, he searched for anything to focus on, settling on the metal tags against Mike's chest.

Mike moaned a little louder, the unexpectedly guttural tone eliciting a much softer groan out of Tim. He angled his thrusts even lower, rubbing himself hard against Tim with each easy thrust.

Tim tried to focus on the tags, the way they swung forward and then back with each pressing push, but it was just so much more intense than he remembered - even the loud music couldn't distract him. An unexpected warmth spread across his belly and he gripped the covers even tighter. "Christ, Mike..." He pulled his hands up quickly, grasping tight at Mike's hips, holding him in place as he pushed himself up off the bed.

"Mmm... yes..." Mike groaned, leaning in close as Tim's short nails dug into his hips.

Tim's body throbbed at the familiar release as he came, pushing back hard against his partner. He bit down into his lip, forcing back the loudness like he always had. Then, he slowly came back down - almost dizzy - as Mike pressed in close against him. It wasn't his full weight, just enough to make him feel oddly safe and protected.

"Tim," Mike sighed against the side of Tim's face, pressing in close to kiss his cheek.

"Hmm?" Tim smiled, turning his head and catching the corner of Mike's mustache against his lips. "Wha?"

Mike hesitated a moment, then gently kissed his lips.

It was unexpected, but not unfamiliar or unwelcome. Tim tilted his chin upwards, parting his lips and fully falling into to the moment. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a loud banging at the door.

"Everything alright, then?" Marsha's voice called through the closed door and Mike was off the bed in a flash, pushing himself back against the door they'd forgotten to lock.

"Yes, Marsha. Just... talking," Mike called back, gesturing for Tim to do something other than lay in the bed looking like he'd just gotten off.

"Christ, I'm sticky..." Tim muttered, snatching up his trousers and pulling them on as quickly as he could before turning off the music. "I'll go..." He found a clean looking sock and quickly cleaned himself off, pulling on the first familiar feeling shirt he could as Mike stepped away from the door. "Marsha!" He grinned wide, quickly slipping out to allow Mike a little time to at least hide the evidence.

"Everything alright?" She tilted her head up slightly, looking Tim over with a wary eye.

"Yeah, just had to diffuse the situation, you know? It's fine." Tim flashed a hopeful grin, pulling away from her as she leaned in a little closer.

"He alright, then?" She took a long drag off her fag, letting it dangle a moment.

Tim nodded, stepping towards the door to make a hasty exit. "Oh yea, just a little bit of a row, you know?" He cocked his head slightly, gesturing towards the door. "I should be heading back downstairs... could use a bath..."

Marsha nodded slowly as he opened the door, "Ey, Tim?"

"Yes?" Tim turned back quickly, his voice catching in his throat as he got a bit of a sinking sensation in his gut.

"Michael 'll probably be wantin' his shirt back... looks too big on you anyway." She gestured towards him with a wide grin, dropping what would possibly pass for a sly wink.

End


End file.
